Grammar

Sometimes you can never tell,
Sometimes you can always tell.
Never can you sometimes tell
What’s on the bottom of the sea-shore.

Post-it Notes

But even before the knight in shining armor arrived, there was a monkey whose name was Parrot. He was nothing by his name, but he responded to it anyways. One day he was writing a letter to a dear friend in a whale when a parrot came along and asked, "Why do you smell like strawberries and coins?" Parrot was frustrated for he didn't know what that meant. He ran deep into the forest and tripped over an elk, one with humongous antlers. The elk's name was Fred, and Fred gave Parrot a box with a ribbon around it. He said, "For you." Parrot ran back home and opened the box. Inside were two shiny glass slippers, just Parrot's size. He slipped them on and went to show the parrot. When he finally found him, the parrot was on top of the Spaceneedle, looking up. The parrot said, "I've been waiting." Parrot didn't know what this meant, but he said, "Look at my glass slippers!" The parrot nodded and exclaimed, "I also have something for you." He took out a lady bug named Squirt and handed it to Parrot. "By the way”, said the parrot "my name is Youngtel, but call me Macho." Macho then flew off North somewhere leaving Squirt and Parrot alone at the top of the skyscraper. With Squirt on his head, Parrot ran home to finish his letter, but in his way was Fred the Elk, duck taped to his front door. Parrot said, "What happened? Are you okay?" Fred just hung there and said, "Oh, I'm fine. The woodland creatures just got a little carried away with themselves."

Adventures of Leona

And as the recycle bin walked across the room it stopped, so very suddenly, as if struck by a thought. Maybe, just maybe, if he could hide in a plant the kitchen would be in view. And it was a good idea, for it worked. And if it didn't work it would still be a good idea. The lamp shade plopped like a raindrop into the sink, not realizing what would happen next. Being an evil mouse, the one who lived under the stereo beneath a pile of yarn that smelled like buffalo, she made, even created, a sound that could call The Muffin of Wonder to attention. He immediately stopped in his tracks and struck a glare at the large purple bush in the corner. It jiggled slightly, as if afraid. Then, as if planned, the toaster crept back to the barnyard. For 15 seconds (of course seeming like a mouthful more) everything was bare. The wallpaper had been stripped the week before and never attended to. No one breathed, not even the plastic tree hidden in the crevasse.

LOST IN PORTLAND

By B. M. Wilson and S. N. Butler

Lost in Portland,
How will we ever move about?
Lost in Portland,
We may never get out.

Lost in Portland,
The streets all around us.
Lost in Portland,
In a 15 passenger bus.

Lost in Portland,
With an all-so-scary driver.
Lost in Portland,
I want to be a cadiver.

Lost in Portland,
Oh where is my Mother?
Lost in Portland
Oh why should I bother?